


that which you would miss the most

by oddlyqueer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, also its gay, its the second challenge w the lake, like really gay, set during book 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 10:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddlyqueer/pseuds/oddlyqueer
Summary: “Here,” she said, thrusting a tiny bundle of what looked to be grass into his hand. “Gillyweed. It’ll let you breathe underwater. The effects last about an hour. You have to go, now, or he’s going to drown, you have to get to the lake right now—”“Who’s going to—what are you talking about, Sette?”“The riddle, don’t you remember? The one you’ll miss most! They took people, R!”





	that which you would miss the most

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivelapluto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelapluto/gifts).



Grantaire sat in the common room, frantically looking through the stacks of books that Combeferre had brought him from the library. Wand tucked behind one ear, he flipped through the pages as fast as he could, but nothing popped out at him. 

Combeferre had already left, having been taken down to the Great Hall, and Bahorel had to go back to the Gryffindor common room, so he had been alone in his search for the past half hour. 

Cosette walked over to him, a steaming hot cup of coffee in her hands. She wore her eagle-patterned pajamas that her mother had sent her this past Christmas.

“Don’t you think you should take a break?” she asked softly, sitting next to him. 

“Can’t. Challenge is tomorrow. Can’t stop.”

Cosette handed him the coffee. He drank it gratefully, setting the cup down on the table. She picked up one of the books and examined it. 

“Do you think you ought to try something other than charms? Like maybe a potion or something?”

Grantaire paused. “I can’t go to the library, it’ll be closed.”

“I have some potion and herb books that my friend lent me,” she said. “Let me get them, I can help you do your research for a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire said, relieved. He started on another book, this one about transfiguration. If he had only taken those advanced classes—no. This wasn’t the time to regret tiny things he could’ve done to do better. 

As he looked through the books, he started drifting off. It wasn’t long before the warmth of the fireplace and the stuffy, boring books sent him right off to sleep.

“R. R, get up.” He blinked and looked up, seeing Cosette standing over him. 

“What? What time is it?” 

“Almost nine.” 

“Nine? Fuck. I have to—” He looked around, terrified of failing the challenge. “The challenge, I can’t, I don’t have the answer—”

“Here,” she said, thrusting a tiny bundle of what looked to be grass into his hand. “Gillyweed. It’ll let you breathe underwater. The effects last about an hour. You have to go,  _ now,  _ or he’s going to drown, you have to get to the lake right now—”

“Who’s going to—what are you talking about, Sette?”

“The riddle, don’t you remember? The one you’ll miss most! They took people, R!” 

Grantaire’s stomach dropped. Who was it? Who had they taken? His mind raced. Bahorel—maybe him? Combeferre had disappeared sometime in the night, it could be him— no, but Courfeyrac was involved in the challenge, he was the other Hogwarts champion. It’d have to be him for Courf, they’d been skirting on the edge of dating for months. But who was it? Who could they have taken?

Cosette grabbed him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the exit. They both broke into an all-out sprint, trying to make it before the challenge began. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know who was there, he had to save them. 

As they finally made it to the lake, Cosette gave him a tight hug and ran off to the stands. “Good luck,” she said. “I know you can do it.”

He scanned the people in the stands, immediately noticing Bahorel and his enormous “GO GRANTAIRE” sign. He adjusted his tie, waved to Bahorel in the stands, and looked for everyone else.

Combeferre was nowhere to be found, as expected. Jehan was gone, too, pretty appropriately considering Montparnasse was the Beauxbatons champion and they’d been carrying on a not-so-surreptitious romance for a few months. He spotted Feuilly in a few moments, and the green-yellow-red of Musichetta, Joly, and Bossuet right beside him. There was Marius, Cosette right beside him, and— 

Wait. Where was Enjolras?

Shit. No. This was… incredibly awkward.But he couldn’t think of that now, he had to finish the challenge, he had to save him. He stared down at the gillyweed Cosette had given him, and reluctantly bit down on it. 

Sliding to a stop, he fell in line next to Montparnasse and Courfeyrac. Eponine was there as well, tying her hair back into a messy bun.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. 

“Alright, champions, prepare for the challenge!” Headmaster Valjean called from the stands. 

“Three… two… one.” A magical blast of smoke erupted from Headmaster Valjean’s wand, and Grantaire dove into the lake.

Immediately he was hit by a blast of bitter cold. The lake was frigid. He was a decently strong swimmer, but it was so cold he could barely move. 

All of a sudden, he felt the cold start to fade. For a minute he thought he was going to drown, his limbs were going numb, but no—he still had feeling. He felt even stronger than before, and a pricking on his neck gave way to small slits forming there. 

Gasping, he realized he had gills. He could breathe. He made a mental note to thank Cosette before diving deeper into the lake. 

All of a sudden, a melusine jumped out in front of him, baring its teeth. Grantaire pointed his wand at it and thought frantically for a spell. 

Without even speaking, a blast of searing hot water came from his wand, burning the melusine badly and forcing it backwards. It screamed, its two tails thrashing as it was thrown into a wall of rough rock. He looked at it for a moment before deciding it would probably be wise to leave before the melusine recovered. 

Swimming wasn’t hard for him before, but now it came as easy as walking. He dodged a few schools of fish, found his way down into a small cave system, and almost got tangled in some seaweed before finding his way to an arch guarded by merfolk.

They made a menacing sort of gesture at him before noticing his Hogwarts robes and letting him through. Grantaire swam down further, diving between the thickets of seaweed and kelp, finally approaching a line of mermen guarding four floating people. 

Combeferre, at the very end, was held down by a long rope of kelp, latched around his ankle. His Ravenclaw robes billowed around him in the water, his hair floated around his face, and his glasses were gone, having probably floated away earlier in the hour. As Grantaire approached, a merman blocked his way with a large spear. 

“He is not yours,” the merman said. 

All of a sudden, Courfeyrac swam past. He had a large bubble around his face, and as he dove towards Combeferre, Grantaire spotted a look of panic on his face. 

“I got lost,” he mouthed quietly. “Sorry. But go quickly, Eponine and Montparnasse are coming soon.” 

He produced a knife from his pocket and sawed through the seaweed around Combeferre’s ankle, pressing a kiss to his forehead through the bubble. As quickly as he had appeared, he swam away, Combeferre’s robes still trailing behind.

Next in line was a small boy. His dark, curly hair marked him as most likely related to Eponine—her brother, maybe? Then, beside him, Jehan, their hair floating freely in long reddish strands. It looked almost alive. In a flash, Montparnasse approached. He had transformed himself, but badly. The sharp teeth, the pointed snout, the dark eyes—he had tried to become a shark. As he dove towards Jehan, Grantaire watched him try to hack apart the seaweed with his teeth.

He would hurt them, Grantaire thought. Bite right through their ankle. 

“Montparnasse!” Grantaire shouted, but nothing came out. He searched rapidly—there, in the tangle of seaweed, was the knife Courfeyrac had used to cut Combeferre free. Tapping Montparnasse on the shoulder, he handed him the knife. Montparnasse nodded gratefully and cut apart the now-weakened seaweed. He grabbed Jehan and swam off.

Turning to the last person in line, Grantaire took in a deep breath. He had known who it would be, but it was still a shock to see Enjolras, floating there, seaweed tying him down. His bright golden hair curled above him, and the pine green of Slytherin’s robes enveloped him in darkness. He looked for the knife, but Montparnasse had taken it with him.  _ Sabotaging prick, _ Grantaire thought, but looked around for anything sharp. 

He found it in a jagged rock that sat on the floor. It was hefty and sharp at one end, which was useful to him, and he gripped it in one hand. He sawed through the seaweed holding Enjolras down, and wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. 

Grantaire didn’t even know if it was an involuntary action or not, but Enjolras wrapped his arms around him, too. 

Eponine still wasn’t here. He looked around, but she still hadn’t arrived. No sign of her floating down, no figure swimming by in any direction. Adjusting his grip on the rock, he reached for the young boy, but the mermen closed in around him.

“Get away!” Grantaire shouted, dropping the stone and pulling out his wand. They recoiled from it, and he dove at it, snapping the seaweed in half easily with a severing charm. He grabbed the kid under his arm and swam upwards, seeing the light above him.

How much time did he have left? He didn’t know. There was no way to tell, and the sun was no help, but his gills were closing up. He must not have much time left.

Enjolras began to stir in his arms.  _ Fuck. _ He couldn’t let him know—if he found out Grantaire had essentially forced him to be part of the tournament, he’d hate him so much. He kicked harder, swimming up and up, trying not to lose his breath. 

His gills gave one last, desperate flip and then closed. All of a sudden, his lungs started burning, his eyes stung, and his chest hurt terribly. He couldn’t breathe. 

It was too far—too far to the surface. He would drown, they would drown, he’d fail—

He burst out of the surface of the lake, staring up at the bright light. He swam towards the edge of the lake, seeing Eponine shivering there. She had horrible scratches all over her body.

“Oh, thank god, Gavroche,” she said, running towards them. She swept him up out of Grantaire’s arms. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to—”

“There were grindylows,” Eponine said. “They—they found me and caught me, I couldn’t breathe, and I was so scared that Gavroche would die—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He tried to comfort her, but all he could think about was the challenge. Had he won? Had he made it? Grantaire looked at the time limit. 

55 minutes gone. He had made it.

Grantaire felt Enjolras stirring against his shoulder. His soaking wet hair stuck to his face, and he looked up at Grantaire with big, bright eyes. 

“You—” he broke off, coughing. “Why am I—”

Grantaire pulled him onto the lakeshore, kneeling down beside him. Enjolras’s head was in his lap, and he knelt there with him, comfortably resting on the soft sand. He pushed himself up so he sat in front of Grantaire, his robes clinging to his body. 

“I’m… they told me I was going for one of the champions, but I assumed it was Courfeyrac,” he said, looking at Grantaire. “But—it’s you. I didn’t think it would be you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I—I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. If I hadn’t rescued you, if the time had run out or if I’d overslept—”

“No, R, please don’t—” Enjolras coughed again. “It’s not your fault.”

He sat there, staring at him with those big blue eyes. There was something quietly reverent about it, like he was impressed with Grantaire. 

“You… you saved me. Even though I’m always so awful to you, even though I’m—me.” 

“Of course I saved you,” Grantaire said. “I had to. How could I not?”

“You don’t think Valjean would’ve let us drown, do you? I’d have been fine if you— if you’d just left me there in the lake—”

“No!” Grantaire reached for Enjolras’s hand in spite of himself, almost taking his hand before remembering himself and pulling away. Enjolras pushed himself up to sit next to Grantaire, leaned his head on Grantaire’s shoulder, and took his hand. He went bright red. 

“Um. I. Are you okay?”

“The riddle,” Enjolras murmured, closing his eyes. “It said—what was it, that which you would miss the most? And for you… that was me?”

Grantaire froze.  _ Shit. _ He hadn’t even considered that.

“Um.” He paused, biting his lip. “Yes?”

“That’s honestly a very high compliment,” Enjolras said slowly. 

“I mean, um. Not really. It’s not—um—it isn’t a compliment that someone like me likes you,” he said. 

“Yes, it is,” Enjolras said, holding Grantaire’s hand even tighter. “You’re a very smart person, and I don’t mean that lightly. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“That’s not true,” Grantaire said automatically. 

“It is,” he said. “I’m not a liar, Grantaire. You're a genuinely intelligent person, and if someone like you thinks of me as important… well. I'm very flattered.”

“Thank you,” he said, shocked. 

“You're very welcome,” Enjolras said, curling up next to Grantaire on the warm lakeshore.

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for reading my barricade day fic!! ily all and thanks for so many good times in this big gay fandom. as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. 
> 
> and heres to my emotional support cynic, incapable of thought or belief, life or death; vivelapluto! happy barricade day <3


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